A year and a half from their first date, Lou collared her. It was a simple ceremony with a small group of kinky friends. They had done it at a cabin in the Adirondacks. She prepared a lovely meal, they all ate and laughed. Then they formed a circle around her in candlelight, Lou read their contract, stopping after each clause, and asked her to confirm her commitment and agreement with each statement. At the end, he placed a thin steel band around her neck and locked it on with a small combination lock. Only Lou knew the combination.
In the two years since the ceremony, Cleo worked to develop her submission. She began attending kink conventions with Lou. They joined a local play space. She found an experienced sub to chat with and figure out what kink meant for her personally.
On day seven hundred and twenty-nine of being collared, Cleo was frustrated that she had not figured out the perfect gift to give Lou tomorrow. Stumped, she sat at her computer and Googled “second anniversary gifts.” The first site to pop up was Hallmark. Fuck it. I have no clue, she thought and clicked the link.
According to Hallmark, the traditional second anniversary gift was paper. The anniversary stone was garnet. The anniversary color was red. That was it! Red. This was perfect. Cleo knew what to do.
Lou loved knife play. Cleo had seen him perform amazing scenes with other bottoms and subs. For Cleo, knives were a hard limit. She had been a cutter as a teenager and feared that knife play would trigger those old habits. Her thighs bore scars of self-inflicted cuts. For her, knives and cutting always represented pain, depression, destruction, annihilation.
But the second anniversary color was red. Here was her chance to push her limits. Here was her chance to do something for Lou that he loved and would please him. Here was a chance for her to explore something for the first time with her lover. She could take a red, a hard limit, and push past it for him. She could redefine what cutting meant to her and give her Sir a very special anniversary gift.
The thought of Lou touching her with a knife made her heart race and her palms sweat. It was terrifying and deeply exhilarating. She found herself taking short breaths and tensing all her muscles at just the thought of him touching her with the tip of a knife’s blade. The idea that it could cut her flesh brought about an instant need to pee.
That night, over dinner, Cleo proposed her anniversary gift.
“You know tomorrow’s our two-year collaring anniversary, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” Lou replied.
“I figured out your gift,” Cleo said with a glint in her eye.
“Oh? Do I get to know what it is or do I have to wait ’til tomorrow?”
“I want to do knife play.” Cleo felt the words fall out in a rush. If she had tried to pace them, they might have gotten stuck inside her.
Lou looked at her. He knew about her aversion to knife play. He knew why she had this aversion. “Really?”
“Yes, Sir. I think it might help me close an old chapter in my life and open a new one with you. I want to give you something special, something I’ll only have done with you.”
Lou was quiet as he thought over her request. Cleo stared at him, awaiting a response.
“Have you thought about what this might trigger?” Lou asked.
“Yes, Sir. But it’s been six years since I last cut. I’ve dealt with the issues that caused cutting in therapy. I’m not living with my parents. I feel good about me. I think I can handle this.”
“Are you scared?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir, a bit. But I’ve seen you do knife scenes with other people. I trust you fully. My body belongs to you. I know you will keep me safe. I want to make you happy.”
“Okay.” Lou smiled. This was an amazing gesture on Cleo’s part. Even if the scene ended as soon as he touched her with a blade, he knew this was a true act of devotion and trust on her part.
They finished dinner. As Cleo watched television, Lou formulated the scene they would enact tomorrow night. As he envisioned the different scenarios, he went from pleased to aroused. Without saying a word, he unbuttoned his jeans while still sitting and pulled out his hard cock. He reached over to Cleo who was sitting on the couch next to him, wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her down on it.
As soon as Lou had started unbuttoning his jeans, Cleo knew where the night was going. Her mouth was wide open before it even reached the top of his hard dick. In one motion, Lou took her from sitting and watching Hoarders to pressing his erection deep into the back of her throat.
Lou said nothing while he used Cleo’s hair as a handle to pump her face on his cock. Tonight he was taking great pleasure in alternately thrusting his dick into her mouth, forcing his cock deep into her throat and holding it there until her body convulsed with pleasure. That’s when he let her up for air before plunging back in.
Cleo felt the top of Lou’s cock expand as he grew harder and harder. Finally, Lou pulled Cleo’s head up so her face was an inch from his dick and shot his hot come all over her smiling lips, before pulling her back to a sitting position. She smiled and licked his cream off her face with her tongue. Lou used his index finger to get the spots Cleo had missed, then stuck the finger in her mouth for her to suck. “Good girl. Go clean up,” Lou instructed.
Day seven hundred and thirty fell on a Thursday. Lou had one class and one lab section. Lab finished at six in the evening. Cleo had two lab sessions in the morning and used Thursday afternoons for her own research. Her last lab section finished at one, which meant she would have to wait in anticipation for at least five hours.
Instead of staying on campus to work after her teaching obligations, Cleo went home. She was anxious and excited. She couldn’t sit still. She cleaned the kitchen. Four hours left. She vacuumed the house and dusted. Three hours, fifteen minutes left. She tried to do yoga, but after ten painfully long minutes, aborted the practice for the day. She tried to read a book. When that proved futile, she logged onto Facebook. She texted her mother-in-law to thank her again for babysitting.
When her phone beeped, she scanned the screen eagerly. It was a text from Lou. Eat a light snack at 5. Shower and lotion with shea butter. Pin your hair up. No makeup. Be naked and ready by 6:30.
Thank God. She had her to-do list. There was a plan. Lou was in control of this. Her heart slowed down a bit and she was able to concentrate on a streaming video.
At five, Cleo ate a piece of string cheese, a handful of rice crackers, drank lemonade, and finished with two Hershey’s Kisses. She showered and meticulously shaved, then slathered on extra lotion. At 6:30 she took the kneeling pillow into the living room and placed it in direct line of sight of the front door. Then she knelt and waited.
At 6:38 she heard Lou place his key in the door. He entered wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She could tell by his smell he had showered at work.
Lou smiled when he saw his girl waiting dutifully for him. He put his messenger bag on the tallboy near the door, kicked off his Converse, and walked over to Cleo. He placed his hand under her chin and turned her face upward, bending over to kiss her. “Happy anniversary, my good girl.” He smiled gently.
Cleo’s collar sat on the small shelf near the door where it “lived” when she was not wearing it. Lou picked it up and placed it around Cleo’s neck. He pulled a new small combination lock from the front pocket of his jeans. He held it in front of Cleo and turned it around. On the back, a small silver plate with a “2” was soldered onto the lock. A huge smile spread over Cleo’s face as Lou locked her into her collar.
Lou walked behind Cleo. He placed both hands on her shoulders. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked.
Cleo nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“What are your safewords?”
“Yellow and red, Sir,” Cleo confirmed.
“While I want you to try as much of this as possible, I want you to use your words if you are triggered. This is especially important if we hit an emotional trigger. Do you understand?” Lou wanted to make sure Cleo had an out should she need it. He knew she want
ed to please him so badly, especially on this occasion, that she might allow something to go wrong and try and push through for him.
“Yes, Sir,” Cleo said softly.
“Good girl. Now I want you to kneel on the ottoman.”
They had an oversized ottoman they used as a coffee table when they entertained. At three feet square, it provided ample room for Cleo’s petite frame. Cleo positioned herself on all fours close to the edge.
Lou left the room. Cleo could hear him in the bedroom closet taking out their two toy boxes. Lou walked back into the living room and placed items on the table behind Cleo. She did not look. Lou had trained her to hold her position. It was a Dom’s prerogative to decide what got used during a scene; the sub didn’t have the right to inquire what was to be used once negotiations were finished. Lou made a second, and then a third trip. Cleo held her position on all fours.
She heard Lou go into the spare bedroom, then she made out thunking noises. The fucking machine! Cleo blew out her breath. This was a box contraption with a place to attach a dildo to a reciprocating motion bar. This one had options to change the depth of the strokes and the speed. Lou liked to watch it fuck people. He had a range of dildos and altered the size depending on the person and the scene. Lou carried the machine into the living room.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cleo saw Lou go over to the high-backed chair in the corner of the living room. Most people thought this chair was some Gothic revival piece. Its high back was composed of three long slats. Its seat consisted of a small square block of wood and then two long slats. What most people didn’t notice was that there were large eyebolts on the undersides of many of the slats.
The chair was actually a carefully disguised bishop’s chair. Press a few buttons and the two outside slats on the back clicked into position to form a cross. Unlatch two latches and the two long slats on the seat opened into a “V” position. The eyebolts on the mobile slats facilitated ropes, chains, or other bonding devices.
Lou transformed the chair. Cleo heard him move the fucking machine closer to it. He then picked up something from the table and walked back to Cleo.
A soft rabbit fur mitt touched Cleo’s back. Lou rubbed it over her shoulders and neck, down her back, over her ass and to her thighs. He continued to work her ass and thighs with the mitt. Cleo relaxed. The soft touch was reassuring. The rubbing calmed her. Lou used the mitt to pull Cleo’s thighs open wider.
Lou had positioned her thighs just wide enough for a slight breeze to hit her bare pussy lips when he swung his hand to spank her wet lower lips. The sensation on her intimate area changed immediately. The breeze felt colder. Her lower lips slid effortlessly when she shifted her hips. Her nipples were hard too.
She heard Lou pull something from his jean pocket before sharp pricks ran up the back of her right thigh. A Wartenberg wheel! Lou had used this tool on her before, but very briefly. When he used a light touch, she was fine with it. She knew from feeling it outside of play that it could get very painful.
Lou ran the wheel up her right thigh, across her ass just above her little hole, then back down. Tracing the pattern backward, he increased the pressure. When Cleo squirmed, Lou placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. He took the wheel and ran it hard across her ass cheeks. “Ahhh!” Cleo let out a sound of surprise and a bit of pain.
The wheel pricked her skin in a new and exciting way. It wasn’t like the tattoo gun nor was it like a pinprick. Rapid, sharp pokes set her brain racing to contextualize the feeling. The next pass of the wheel pulled her back into the moment. The feeling of tacks being rapidly pressed into her soft flesh led to images of tiny drops of blood rushing to the surface of her sink. With her next breath, she noticed she was wet between her legs.
Lou repeated his attack on her ass. “Ohh, ahh!” Cleo pulled forward to try and move her ass out of the way.
“Uh uh uh! No, you don’t,” Lou corrected.
Cleo resettled into her original position. Lou left the wheel on the ottoman and walked back to the table. The “click” told Cleo Lou had just opened the silicone lube bottle. Lou’s hand was on her ass, then a cold nob of glass nestled against her tight butthole. Lou pressed the toy into her hole—but not enough to enter—and pulsed it a couple of times. On the fourth pulse, Lou eased the first bubble of the glass plug into Cleo’s hole.
“Mmhhmhm.” Cleo combined enjoyment and effort into the utterance.
Lou reached under Cleo and flicked her clit to help her ass to open more, making her breathing quicken. Lou pushed the next slightly larger bubble into her ass.
Cleo sighed with contentment.
Lou pulsed the glass plug until Cleo involuntarily pushed back to take more of it. When she did this, Lou gave one final push and the last two largest bubbles slid into Cleo’s ass.
“Ahhhh. Thank you, Sir.” This time Cleo let out a noise of pure pleasure.
Lou wiped his hand on a towel he had tucked into his belt, then ran it over Cleo’s lower lips. They were sopping wet. He held her lips open with two fingers and teased her engorged clit. Cleo tried to shift her hips enough to get Lou to slip his fingers into her pussy, but he deftly avoided penetrating her.
Finally, Leo pulled his hand back and wiped it off. “Get on the chair,” he commanded.
Cleo moved from the ottoman, clenching the ass plug, and walked to the chair. She took her position on the small seat, legs spread wide on the open slats. The base of the butt plug clacked against the chair as she sat, making Cleo blush.
Lou picked up two leather wrist cuffs from the table. He walked over to Cleo and fastened them to her wrists, then used steel carabiners to attach the D-rings on the cuffs to the eyebolts on the upraised arms of the chair. Cleo relaxed and let her arms hang wide.
This is where she felt most comfortable, like coming home. As she was bound, the need to control her reactions or her thoughts receded. Her breath slowed and tension drained from her face. Lou had control of her now. She was safe and giving into her excitement for the evening.
Lou picked up two leather belts. He attached one around each thigh and through the eyebolts on the bottom of the leg slats. He then took two smaller belts and secured Cleo’s ankles to the chair’s legs. Cleo relaxed and breathed deeply. She knew Lou had something planned. This would be her only time to enjoy the “calm before the storm.”
Lou positioned the fucking machine directly under Cleo, then walked over to the table and picked up a dildo. Holy fuck, thought Cleo. The damn thing looked fourteen inches long. Just because the thing was sparkly and glittery did not make it easier to fuck it.
As Lou approached, Cleo’s heart rate quickened. Lou was carrying the dildo and their big bottle of lube. He knelt before the chair and started fingering Cleo’s pussy. He knew she was already quite wet, so he started with three fingers. He ran all three across her clit and right into her pussy. No resistance. The next thrust was four fingers. Cleo moaned. Lou pulled his hand back and grabbed a pump of lube. Five fingers up to the last knuckle sank into Cleo’s dripping pussy.
Cleo moaned loudly. With his free hand, Lou grabbed her nipple and pinched hard. Her pussy pulsed and Lou steadily pushed past his knuckles and felt her pussy wrap around his wrist.
“Oh, thank you, Sir!” Cleo shouted.
He lubed up the large dildo and pushed its head into Cleo’s waiting pussy. He then clipped the base onto the fucking machine. Cleo waited for the machine to start. Instead, Lou stood up.
Cleo sat there a little confused. Her ass had a plug in it and her pussy was now filled with a dildo, but no action.
Lou walked to the supply table, keeping his back to Cleo. She noticed he was doing something, but didn’t know what.
When Lou turned around and waved, she saw he had put on five stainless steel claws. These had been custom forged for him. The “claw” was a two-inch long rolled piece of steel that was cured and came to a point. They were like eagle talons. Cleo had seen Lou use them on other people, but never on her.
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Lou ran the claws lightly over Cleo’s breasts and collarbones. Her heart felt like it had leapt into her mouth. Panic gripped her brain with images of the claws piecing her jugular. Struggling to ground herself in the moment she focused on Lou—his presence, his scent, his touch. Inhaling deeply, her panic receded and goose bumps covered her flesh as her nipples hardened and saliva filled her mouth.
He continued to stroke her upper chest and breasts gently. Then he pulled back and tapped her hard right nipple. Every cell in her body perked up, her attention laser-focused on the new sensations Lou was provoking. Lou then took her nipple between the claw on his thumb and one on his index finger and pinched.
“Oh fuck!” Cleo blurted unwittingly.
Lou smiled. He ran the claws across her chest and pinched her left nipple. “Good Goddamn!” she shouted.
She glanced at her nipples. She was convinced Lou had just pierced her. But no, not even a drop of blood. Thin red lines emerged on her chest and torso from the claws. She was scratched but not cut.
Lou stroked her inner left thigh with the claws. Cleo liked the pressure and slight scratching. On the second pass from her groin to her knee, he dug in. Cleo yelled. Lou repeated this action a third time. This time deep red lines appeared on her inner thigh.
Cleo looked down, the red lines popped out at her. Lou watched her carefully, taking in surprise, some confusion, and definitely some pleasure. “We still green?” Lou asked.
“Yes, Sir.” Cleo nodded.
Lou adjusted his position, then ran the claws down her left thigh. This time he took five strokes before he left any red marks. Cleo was breathing more rapidly, but not panting. Her pupils were wide, her lips parted. Lou checked her pulse. Still in the safety zone.
Lou walked to the supply table and took the claws off as Cleo adjusted herself on the dildo. Her ass ached a bit from the plug but this was the first time she had noticed it since Lou started working on her with the claws. She had actually forgotten her holes were stuffed full.
Best Bondage Erotica of the Year, Volume 2 Page 6